


Inevitability

by matchynishi



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, I only put angst because of the first chapter, M/M, Magic, Multi, Tags May Change, What Have I Done, im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchynishi/pseuds/matchynishi
Summary: Vampire/Werewolf AU. Inspired by (what else) the Puff Dream ep.





	1. Chapter 1

“You know what, this is stupid. No, this is the worst idea we’ve ever had. We can’t do this, Jaemin, let’s just-”

“Not the best time or place to have second thoughts, Jeno.”

Jeno runs a frustrated hand through his black hair, which is already so ruffled that it almost hides the pointed ears sticking straight up through the strands.

“What do you mean, second,” he mutters, jumping over the slippery rocks. At any other time, any other day (or night) he would have enjoyed the hike through the gloom of the forest. “I’m at like fortieth thoughts, probably.”

The boy striding beside him is similarly grim faced. “Well, keep them in your head, then. I don’t want to hear it unless you’ve magically come up with a perfect solution to all this in the last fifteen minutes, other than what we’re currently doing.”

Jeno bites off a curse, but is silent for the next little while it takes for them to get to the fork in the faint trail they’ve been following. Jaemin stops and looks at Jeno, brow raised and expectant.

Jeno closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting the scents of the night pool into his lungs. He’s good at tracking, but he’s only ever done any serious tracking with his companions. His older _wolf_ companions. But this isn’t anything that could wait, and for better or for worse, he’s the only one here. And they really don’t have much time. Jeno shakes himself internally, and focuses, filtering the individual scents out and discarding each one until he finds and grips the one that doesn’t belong - the sour, metallic tang of old blood bound together with the ozone that precedes a lightning storm. Or magic.

“There.” He jerks his head to the left. “Anything from your end?”

Jaemin is staring into the dark of the night, his pupils shining with the energy pooling in his eyes. He takes a few, quick glances around them, and turns back to Jeno. 

“Quiet so far,” he murmurs. “Let’s hurry, though; I have a bad feeling.” Jaemin’s eyes linger for a moment on the path they followed.

Jeno takes a deep breath, and starts out again.

 

“This way? You sure?”

“Yeah.” Jeno averts his eyes from his right. He knows, as Jaemin does, what lies further on there. This close, the magical energies are unmistakeable, and unforgettable once you encounter them. The ringing violence of the event is still resonating around the area even now; a warning to everyone that has the senses to recognize it. The energies, leftover as they are, are still so strong that whatever happened must have occurred just a few hours ago, if that. 

He glances at Jaemin. Jaemin’s brows are furrowed, fingers rubbing his forehead. Vampiric senses are wholly different from wolf ones, though said to be almost as sensitive. For his friend’s sake, he hopes not. Bad enough that Jeno’s starting to get a migraine, at least one of them should be spared. Jeno doesn’t really very high hopes. Sensitivity to magic is one of Jaemin’s strengths, and no wonder - Jaemin is one of the rare True Ones, of the Old Families - his youth notwithstanding. An ember, breathing steadily underground and ripe with potential, only needing the time and circumstances to flare out in a blazing firestorm.

But that’s true for both of them, they’re still so young, the babies of their larger group, and they’re definitely not the right people to be doing this right now, they’re too young, they don’t know enough, what if they mess up--

“Hey,” Jaemin’s voice cuts through his panic, voice cool and edged. “Panic attack later, we don’t have any paper bags here.”

Jeno glares back, though he does try to regulate his breathing. Jaemin is right after all, they don’t have time. He can throttle Jaemin once he’s back home.

 

Jeno looks around when he finally stops. The clearing - and he’s using the word _very_ generously - has nothing marking it as different, nothing to separate it from the woods they’re in. But to him, there’s something that says it’s different. Something that says this place is _here_ , and that everywhere else is _other_.

Jeno locks eyes with Jaemin. “It’s here. He’s here.”

Jaemin is already closing his eyes, his entire form stilling. Jeno holds his breath and dares to hope. 

It takes ten long minutes before Jaemin’s eyes snap open, pupils blazing blood red. He whirls around, striding to the corner of a patch of tall grass waving in the breeze. Jeno hurries forward and stops just behind Jaemin’s crouched form. Jaemin has his hands flat on the ground, aura flaring. He curls his fingers right into the earth, and flicks a crimson gaze back.

“Jeno.” Jaemin’s voice is tight with effort. 

Jeno takes a deep breath, and readies himself. “I’m ready.” 

And Jeno is. He knows the time crunch they’re under, knows they’ve done the best they can, and as well as they’ve tried to hide their tracks, but still knows it may not hold against the truly experienced for long. Not if they’re truly looking. But he hopes it holds for just long enough. Because the thread of magic that Jaemin is ready to snap is one that might echo, especially in the night, and especially to the souls of the hunters that were closest to the same magic they fought - and won over, just a few hours ago. 

And now that Jaemin has identified and caught it, Jeno can see if clearly - the threads shining bright with love; the blood and tears embedded in it almost tangible; magic wrought with desperation and protection in equal measure. He swallows and tries not to think of the one that must have made them.

Jaemin clenches his hands into the ground and Jeno sees the magic flex against Jaemin, and for a long, timeless moment, Jaemin is shrouded in sparking threads of brilliant gold, almost equal to the crimson of Jaemin’s power.

Almost.

Jaemin wrenches his hands up and _out_ , and the threads flare and collapse upon themselves with a sound like a gunshot, echoing eerily through the night. Jeno, already changed and in the smallest form he can manage, runs into the uncovered burrow with no hesitation.

It’s small, barely enough space for him to squeeze through, and he makes it to the first fork before he sees him. Jisung is curled into a tiny ball, deep in spelled sleep, and Jeno thanks his lucky stars for that as he grabs his ruff and backs out as quick as he can. He’s barely out of the burrow when he feels Jaemin grab hold of both of them. All he can do is clamp down on Jisung as firmly as he can without breaking the skin and shut his eyes against the surge of Jaemin’s power. 

 

-

 

“Let’s never do that again.”

Jeno doesn’t bother to respond, still lying on the floor like a pillbug, curled around the small form in his arms. Jaemin is collapsed on the couch where he’d staggered to after teleporting all three of them back to his home.

“I mean it. The next time we need to rescue anyone, we go to someone who knows what they’re doing, which is clearly _not us_ -”

“How close was it?”

Jeno’s weary question cuts through Jaemin’s muttered diatribe, and he hears Jaemin gulp audibly with poorly hidden fear. 

“Too close.” Jaemin pushes trembling palms over his eyes. “Three more seconds, and they would’ve had me. Or you.”

Jeno swallows. “But they don’t, right? Have us, I mean. Or know about Jisung?”

Jaemin sighs. “I leveled and scoured the area the second before I pulled out. And I had been pulling out all our traces from the path we walked so there shouldn’t be anything left for anyone to track. Or trace.”

He drops his head back heavily. “Whatever they find would only be what’s tied to the… other area. Hopefully they think it’s a leftover strand breaking there, or something like that.”

Both Jeno and Jaemin has been religiously avoiding saying anything that directly referred to… what happened to Jisung’s mother. Jeno, even after everything that he’s gone through, is still in a state of disbelief. Not denial, exactly, because everyone knows the dangers. But more how everything seemed to have happened so _fast_ … 

“We can’t even give her a proper burial,” he says at last, and closes his eyes against the tears. 

Jaemin says nothing. He knows, as well as Jeno does, that even acknowledgement is akin to a death sentence. Not for them. For _Jisung_.

Jeno draws his fingers through the soft fur of Jisung’s side, but there’s no response. Jeno remembers with a frown that he’s still bespelled. 

“Do you think we should wake him?” he asks Jaemin.

Jaemin shakes his head immediately. “From what I can tell, the spell will last at most another eight hours or so. Better to let it run its course. He’ll wake naturally.”

Jeno nods, still frowning. 

“Besides, Jeno…” And now Jaemin has this thinking face on. “You need to go home now. And be visible, tomorrow, do your everyday routines.”

“I know,” Jeno sighs, biting his lip. “I know what I’m _supposed_ to do, but I can’t just leave him.” Jeno looks up helplessly. “Jaemin, Jisung’s mother was so reclusive that I really think I’m the only other wolf he even _kindasorta_ knows now, and that’s if he remembers the handful of times we saw each other! And now he’s gonna wake up and smell vampires all around him and he’s gonna think the worst-”

“Jeno. Breathe. Also, you’re an idiot.”

Jaemin is looking at him, and there’s a little crinkle in his eyes that tell Jeno he’s internally laughing at him, or would be, at least, if he wasn’t so exhausted. “Honestly, one life-threatening issue, and it’s like your brain stops working.”

“Wha-”

“Stop blabbering and take off your hoodie. And the shirt.”

Jeno blinks and opens his mouth to snap back about ill-timed jokes and freezes in realization. _Ah. Of course._ Actually in this case, Jaemin is right. He _is_ an idiot. Though he wants to know how a vampire thought of scent-memory before the wolf, who actually uses it!

But Jaemin is already struggling to his feet and walking into his bedroom. “I’ll lend you some clothes I never took out of the bags, so you should be good walking around in them without my scent cluttering it up. And to be safe, it’s probably better to not keep any clothes we used today, so chuck everything here before you go.”

Jeno frowns. “But what about what I’m leaving here today?”

“Well. It’s not ideal, but at least my rooms are sealed, so no traces will get out. Also, I don’t have any other clothes of yours to leave with Jisung.” Jaemin walks out of the room with a couple of unopened bags that he hands to Jeno. “Mail me some of your stuff when you get home. I’ll destroy your clothes from today once I get those.”

Okay. They’ve got a plan. For the moment, at least. 

Jeno picks up the bags and tries to remain calm even as he walks to the bathroom to change. His eyes stray to where Jaemin is carefully picking up Jisung, still in his little wolf form, to transfer him to the guest bedroom.

_The worst is over. We’ve got him. He’s safe. That was the most important thing._

Anything else, they could weather together.

 

\---(tbc)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung wakes up groggy.

Jisung wakes in slow, sluggish increments, his consciousness blinking open within a dreamlike haze. His thoughts wander, dozing, and he luxuriates in the warm cocoon of blankets he’s burrowed into. He can’t really feel his arms, or legs; but the thought is strangely unconcerning. His eyelids seem too heavy to lift, and he must slip back into slumber, because the next time he’s aware of himself, he finds himself struggling awake because he’s sweating. He’s way too hot, and no wonder, he realizes, because he’s wrapped half the blankets around himself when he slept. But the bed is just way too comfortable; and there’s something wrong with that, he knows, but the dissonant thoughts drift off like smoke in the breeze.

 

Jisung doesn’t know how long he lies there, half-asleep before his thoughts start even vaguely making sense again. It takes even longer for him to take a full account of his body; his arms and legs feel like lead, weighed down with more than just exhaustion.

 

It’s a shameful amount of time before he realizes that he’s in his wolf form, and that too, spelled to be his smallest size. He stretches slowly, and recognizes his mother’s handiwork with a sigh - he can’t make himself this small using his own power just yet. His mom keeps telling him that he’s still growing into himself, that he’s got to wait till his strength has somewhat stabilized to even attempt half of what she does. Jisung is impatient, though. He’s learned whatever he could, and memorized everything he couldn’t yet, and what he _is_ able to do, he has them cold. And controlled. Probably better than most cubs his age, though that really isn’t saying much.

 

He still can’t do a whole lot, but he’s good at what he does, and he knows he is, because he’s seen mom get that little smile in the corner of her mouth. He maintains that his mom is the hardest teacher he’s ever had. Even though sometimes the way she looks at him is like she’s seeing someone else instead of Jisung, but Jisung doesn’t mind. He’s a little sad, but also kind of proud, because to him there’s no better person to live up to than his father. His father, who he barely remembers, because he sacrificed himself for Jisung and his mom to get away, and if he can live up to even be half the person his father was, Jisung would be content.

 

He’s practised, and practised, and _practised_ , till even mom tells him to stop sometimes, even though she’s always been the one to push him to learn as much as he can. And knowing her reasons why - he can’t blame her.

 

After all, pelt hunters don’t really ask your age before trying to kill you. Or worse, trap you till you’re grown enough and _then_ kill you.

 

He still can’t change his size more than halfway though, even after all the practice.

 

_Mom must’ve helped this time…_

 

There’s a stray thought that intrudes then, and he frowns. There’s something he needs to remember, but there's still a floaty feeling in his head, and it eludes him. He lets it, choosing to focus on the cozy warmth he’s surrounded in, instead.

 

_And even that…_

 

Jisung curls into a ball, his fluffy tail the only moving part of him, flicking back and forth over the sheets he’s lying on, so soft they almost feel like what he imagines silk to be. Even the blanket he’s wrapped in feels like the white fluffy clouds he sees high in the sky on sunny days.

 

His tail eventually stops when he frowns. His mother and him have never had anything but the most basic necessities, by choice as much as necessity – the majority of their savings going into their always-full packs, just in case they need to run again. The sheets and blankets his mom uses is of hardy cotton, the better to squish down and pack if they need to leave in a hurry; and he knows every mended rip and fray, every scent embedded in the cloth.

 

_Which isn’t anything that is around him now._

 

Jisung’s eyes snap open, his body freezing into stillness.

 

He’s lying on what feels like a bed - _a bed?!_ \- and he scrambles out of the blankets covering him in an uncoordinated fumble. His paws slip against the soft cloth, and he grits his teeth as he clambers up, legs slipping and clumsy.

 

_God, how big is this fucking bed?_

 

He sighs in relief when he finally slips free from the cloth inhibiting his movements.

 

Jisung is breathing fast, trying his level best not to hyperventilate, or more probable - crash somewhere with ungainly limbs that don’t seem to want to listen to the commands he’s giving them. He takes his first look around only once he’s able to stand on all four limbs without collapsing.

 

He’s in a bedroom, and although the curtains are drawn, he can see clearly enough to realize his absolute unfamiliarity at his surroundings. He’s never been in anywhere like this - this room with an actual _bed_ and extraneous furniture. There’s multiple lamps and chairs, even a chest of drawers with the most beautifully decorated mirror he’d ever seen at the top.

 

And there’s a certain something overlaid through it all, and despite the cloaked-ozone friction of sealing and protective magics against his fur, and the natural aromas of cedar and pine and dried herbs that serves to mask it all, there’s still an understated element of banked power that’s not so much a scent as it is a _feel_ , and Jisung hasn’t felt anything like this anywhere but once, when his mother had pointed out one man far away from where they were standing on the street. Despite the crowds surrounding him on the street, the feeling of that man’s aura hadn’t been like anything he had seen before, or after.

 

Except now. And even though it’s very different, and there’s none of the heavy, oppressive feeling that was that man’s aura, it’s still unmistakeable.

 

_Vampire. And not the common kind._

 

Jisung takes in the understated elegance in the furnishings, adds in the fact that the room is bigger than his entire apartment, and despite the fogginess that’s still muddling his thoughts and actions, there’s one thought that flares bright, above his accumulating panic.

 

_Oh God. I’m in so much trouble._

 

 

\---(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alskdjf okay so the fluff is gonna be slower in coming than i thought, because the fic keeps getting away from me... im sorry......
> 
> pls leave me a comment guys i crave affirmation

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write a random AU fluff piece, idk where this came from. I feel like I should apologize................ this is supposed to be fluffy. FLUFFY!!! That is definitely what I'm gonna be working toward... pls believe me...
> 
> Comments are truly appreciated! Please let me know what you think. :)


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